Chapter 71 – Activation
The town bar was dimly lit.
Old-style LED bulbs cast a warm amber glow, imitating the flicker of candlelight from a bygone era.
Rows of liquor bottles lined the shelves behind the counter, though most were already empty. Only the bottom shelf still held stock—locally brewed whiskey harsh enough to burn like a knife going down.
Shane sat alone in a corner booth.
A glass of whiskey rested in front of him, barely touched.
Jim and Morgan sat across from each other, already deep into their third round of drinks.
Shane stared silently at the amber liquid, his fingers slowly tracing circles around the rim of the glass.
Lori was gone.
She had gone to the prison with Rick.
Ever since the recruitment notice had been posted, Shane had stood in front of it countless times, hesitating over whether he should sign up.
Not because he wanted the position.
But because part of him felt he should go.
Yet before he could make a decision, Rick had already chosen.
Lori went too.
And Carl.
A complete family of three.
Together.
Neat and whole.
Shane lifted the glass and took a long swallow. The burning liquor tightened his throat.
He should have felt relieved.
The guilt.
The pressure crushing his chest.
The nightmares that jolted him awake in cold sweats every night.
All of it had disappeared with that armored train when it vanished into the tunnel.
No one knew.
And no one ever would.
"Hey! Shane!"
A hand waved in front of his face.
"Shane?"
Jim shoved him lightly, snapping him back to reality.
Only then did Shane realize his glass had somehow gone empty.
He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook the glass lightly.
"Sorry. Zoned out for a minute."
"What're you thinking about?"
Jim leaned forward with a grin, lifting his own glass.
"Thinking while drinking with us? That deserves a penalty shot."
Shane didn't refuse.
He poured himself another full glass, clinked it against Jim's, and drained it in one gulp.
Morgan laughed quietly beside them, his smile carrying a hint of understanding.
"He's got something on his mind. You wouldn't get it."
Jim blinked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Morgan only smiled at Shane without answering.
Shane set the empty glass down slowly, fingers once again brushing the rim.
"It's nothing."
At that moment, the walkie-talkie on the table crackled to life.
After a burst of static, Amy's voice came through.
"Shane, Boss wants you on the third floor of the CDC."
Jim froze for a second before bursting into laughter.
"Well, look at that. The busy man finally got remembered."
Morgan raised his glass toward Jim with a grin.
"Rick's been stealing all the spotlight. Now that he's gone, Shane won't get to slack off anymore."
The two clinked glasses and drank again.
Shane stood, pushing the chair neatly back into place.
As he walked toward the door, he glanced outside the window.
The streets of the town were crowded and lively—far busier than before.
Newly arrived survivors lined up outside the registration office with their families.
Some carried woven bags.
Some held children.
Others pushed shopping carts loaded with everything they still owned.
Kyle sat behind the registration desk, pen moving nonstop.
His expression had long since evolved from enthusiasm to numbness—and from numbness into complete despair.
The town police station had already been converted into a quarantine center.
Holding cells.
Offices.
Meeting rooms.
Anywhere with space had been packed full of people.
After three days of quarantine, survivors would be assigned work and integrated into the settlement.
As for those preaching human rights, freedom, and universal voting rights—
They were all kicked outside the walls.
There were plenty of empty houses in the wasteland.
They could survive there if they wanted.
But no one here was going to waste food on them.
Shane squeezed through the crowd.
Some people recognized him and respectfully called out, "Sir!"
He acknowledged them with a nod but didn't stop walking.
Third Floor – CDC
The hallway lights shone brightly.
Guillermo stood outside the office door like a statue.
Dressed in a black suit, with an earpiece in one ear, a radio clipped to his belt, and a pistol holstered at his waist, he stood perfectly straight without even blinking.
"Boss is still busy. Please wait a moment."
His voice was calm and low.
Shane leaned against the wall, pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, and offered one.
Guillermo glanced at it but didn't take it.
"During work hours, I can't accept anything from anyone."
Shane smirked faintly, stuck the cigarette into his own mouth, and lit it.
Smoke drifted slowly through the hallway.
"How about a drink after work?"
The corner of Guillermo's mouth twitched slightly.
"Deal."
At that moment, the office door opened.
Amy poked her head out and smiled.
"You can come in now. Boss is finished."
Shane casually stuffed the half-smoked cigarette into Guillermo's mouth before walking inside.
Guillermo glanced around the empty hallway.
Then he took a deep drag before pulling the cigarette away.
Half of it disappeared in a single inhale.
He narrowed his eyes slowly.
Nice.
Inside the office, Wu Fan stood studying the map hanging on the wall.
Hearing the door open, he turned around.
Shane remained near the doorway.
"What do you need?"
"Sit."
Wu Fan gestured toward the chair.
Shane sat down quietly.
Wu Fan pulled a folder from the drawer and slid it across the desk.
"Atlanta."
"Your team will take charge of walker-clearing operations there."
"There are a lot of new recruits now. They need combat experience."
Shane opened the folder.
Inside were several aerial reconnaissance photos.
Ruined streets.
Collapsed buildings.
And endless clusters of tiny gray-white dots.
Walkers.
After glancing through the photos for several seconds, he closed the folder again.
"When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow."
Wu Fan looked at him calmly.
"Don't push too hard. The new people are still nervous. Take it slow."
Shane stood and nodded once.
"Understood."
He turned toward the door, hand resting on the knob.
Then he paused.
"Boss…"
He didn't turn around.
"Thanks."
Wu Fan remained silent.
Shane opened the door and left.
After the door closed, Amy slipped out from the adjoining break room carrying an untouched cup of coffee.
"He just left like that? Didn't even ask why you assigned him the mission?"
"He already knows."
Wu Fan accepted the coffee and took a sip.
Amy walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin against his shoulder.
"He's been keeping his head down ever since arriving at the base. Just showing up for work without really trying. Are you sure he can handle this?"
Wu Fan didn't answer immediately.
"Sometimes," he said calmly, "you have to trust someone once and give them a chance."
Amy fell silent for a moment before burying her face against his shoulder.
"Then… will you give me a chance too?"
Wu Fan glanced sideways.
"What kind of chance?"
"I want a child."
The coffee cup paused midway to his lips.
Amy hugged him tighter, her voice muffled as if the words were being forced out from somewhere deep inside her chest.
"The base is stable now."
"There are more people."
"The walls are built."
"Even the prison is operating."
She looked up at him nervously.
"Don't you think something's still missing?"
Her voice softened.
"Don't you want a child of your own?"
Wu Fan slowly set the coffee down on the desk and turned toward her.
Amy's eyes were bright and nervous all at once.
Like grapes soaked in water.
A smile lingered on her lips, though tension still hid beneath it.
"Are you serious?"
"When have I ever not been serious?"
Wu Fan stared at her quietly for several seconds.
Then he suddenly bent down and lifted her into his arms.
"Alright."
Outside in the hallway, Guillermo finished his cigarette.
The elevator doors opened.
Several young men stepped out loudly proclaiming that their father was a governor and demanding easy jobs with high pay and low risk.
Guillermo looked at them expressionlessly.
"Get out."
At the registration checkpoint near the town entrance, Kyle finally watched the last group of newcomers leave after registering.
The gates closed behind them.
He collapsed back into his chair, staring at the thick stack of forms in his hands with utter exhaustion.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Looking up, he saw Marcus approaching with two cups of coffee.
"Tough day?"
Kyle accepted the coffee and took a large gulp immediately.
"How many came in today?"
"Forty-seven."
Marcus sat down beside him.
"I heard the scavenger teams say there's another group already heading this way."
"Please spare me…"
Kyle leaned back in his chair and stared at the gray evening sky overhead.
In the distance, construction on the outer walls was still underway.
Welding sparks flickered constantly beneath the growing darkness.
He closed his eyes and listened quietly.
Electric drills.
Hammers.
Voices.
The world outside was still a complete disaster.
But at least here—
Things were finally starting to feel like civilization again.